Benefits of a Break
by StarFormerAdira
Summary: Jim loved his Enterprise, and he loved his crew, and his missions, and his chair. And there was one other thing...something that encouraged him to count the minutes until they were alone together...


**A/N: I just wrote this for laughs. That, and I love K/S and the whole Star Trek franchise and I simply cannot wait until Star Trek Into Darkness comes out because they are freaking **_**teasing **_**me with all these trailers and images and I think I will go off and squee in my mini-corner now because that is what I do when I hear those words. Have fun. Also, I snuck a couple of TOS references in there. Cookie to the one who gets them! ;)**

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**Benefits of a Break**

The end of his shift was something that Jim didn't used to look forward to.

He loved his ship. He loved his crew, and his missions, and he especially loved his chair. Being forced to leave these things – no matter how many times Uhura explained to him the benefits of sleep – was like taking out his heart and leaving it lying around casually somewhere. When he was unconscious, anything could happen, and he always liked to be on the bridge when these things occurred, even if it was something that Sulu or Chekov could handle easily enough by themselves.

No, Jim really hadn't liked the end of his shift. His quarters were decorated in the standard spaceship manner – the walls and ceiling a dull beige, hiding behind them all the inner workings of the ship that he used to take for granted, and he honestly hadn't had enough time to personalize it yet. Starfleet was unloading assignment after assignment on both him and the _Enterprise_, perhaps their discreet way of making sure they hadn't made a mistake by promoting him to Captain, and most of the crew were getting tired. Jim had made a mental note to organize shore leave sometime soon.

About five weeks ago, though, it had all taken a turn for the better. Jim couldn't exactly remember when the corridors of his ship had started looking brighter and a smile had been present on his face most of the time – but it must've had something to do with the fact that he and Spock had kissed.

Finally. For the first time.

It had been a memorable experience, and nothing like the hesitant lip-brushes on those sappy romantic comedies. Their first kiss was harsh, and fierce, and it was reigned by pure emotion, something Spock would later deny a million times. Jim's right hand on the back of his First Officer's neck, his left clutching the neat black hair, and their breath mingling in the same space that was becoming hotter by the minute...

Yeah, it was one of his better memories, and he'd had quite a few, now he came to think of it. He still got a little mushy, swirly feeling in his stomach whenever he thought back to that moment, and the more sensible parts of his brain still hadn't really processed what had happened. _Spock _was the last person he'd expect to kiss, let alone _fantasize_ about kissing (which he totally had not done before that, by the way, but now it seemed to be the only thing on his mind) and it had been as much of a surprise to him as the rest of the crew.

Who, through their own sneaky resources, had managed to tap the security feed to the prison their two commanding officers were being held in and watch.

And _then _beam them up. Bastards.

The kiss had been an extremely Human act of relief on Spock's part, even though Jim wasn't entirely blameless since he had sort of initiated it in the first place, and Spock just hadn't argued. In fact, the whole memory was sort of a blur. All he could remember was that one bit of contact, and what contact it was, too.

If Jim was the sort of person to sigh happily while looking off into the distance, he would. But, needless to say, he didn't, because acting like that on the bridge would've earned him some well-deserved ribbing later and his crew were already prone to shooting him suggestive side-looks whenever he returned from a conversation with Spock.

Or, you know, blowjob in the turbo-lift. Whichever.

So yes, Jim hadn't really liked the end of his shift. But now – oh, _now_, he almost couldn't wait. He'd sit in his chair nonchalantly until someone reminded him that he was allowed to go now, and he'd turn to that informer, and voice his surprise at how fast time had gone, and saunter off the bridge as if there was absolutely nothing wrong. And then he'd whistle in the turbo-lift, and greet whoever might be in there with him, and then walk very casually down the corridor to his quarters – or Spock's, depending on who got off first – and if it was his, then he would try to clean it up a little and turn up the temperature so it was suitable for someone with Vulcan blood and try to think up ways in which he could be sexier, which always resulted in a morale booster that largely consisted of the words, "Sexier? Not me. I _invented _the word."

And if it was Spock's quarters he was going to, then he would knock very politely and wait until Spock let him come in, which he would, making sure the door was locked behind him, and he would notice immediately that Spock had turned _down _the temperature and that he was still slightly uncomfortable with the change, and then Jim would go over and kiss him and it would be like a thousand suns had just exploded between them.

What was weird was, the fact that Spock was unreachable had been made clear to Jim before they'd even been properly introduced. Seeing the commander around Starfleet campus was unavoidable, since Jim's timetable had liked to spread itself out all over the complex, despite never having an actual lesson with Spock, and even then he gave the impression of a cold, untouchable machine, which, by a strange coincidence, was what McCoy liked to call him. Then, of course, Jim and Spock had had their first little falling-out, and then Spock had hooked up with Uhura, which had been unexpected – to say the least – and then Jim had practically _known _that he'd never be closer to Spock than a friend. It was funny because Jim had kept telling himself that he was still heterosexual, and he especially wasn't attracted to Spock, but after a recent mission on a planet called Triacus (where they'd had to beam children aboard, which was a first for Jim) he'd kinda found feelings surfacing where they shouldn't.

They couldn't have come at a better time, of course, but feelings didn't really care about that.

So, for about a month, or maybe a bit more, Jim had endured Spock and Uhura's relationship with a cheerful, easy-going front. He'd joked with Spock (the joking turned out to be unsurprisingly one-sided) and managed to create an arguably professional bond with Uhura, who was rather pleased to find out that she was no longer the target of her captain's sex drive, even if she didn't know who _was._

And then, the dream couple had broken up. It was so sudden that Jim was still left reeling, because, despite his fantasies, even he had thought they were perfect together. Both intelligent, both good-looking to the point of mind blowing, both fantastic at their jobs. But somewhere along the line, something must've gone wrong, and even though Jim hated himself for it, he couldn't help feeling slightly relieved.

Of course, it was right _then _that they'd stumbled across this weird-ass planet in the M34 Alpha System that had somehow managed to shape itself into an almost perfect example of a Nazi society, and promptly get captured when beaming down there in order to find out more. The Nazis had thrown both Jim and Spock into a prison cell, taken their shirts (Jim's thoughts right then had been: _'the universe freakin' sucks'_) and then whipped them when they refused to talk ('_oh, dear Lord, I'm never going to be able to forget this, am I?'_). And while they were in that prison cell, with Jim grouching over his wounds and Spock, very helpfully, trying to figure out a way to escape, confessions had managed to tumble over themselves on their way out of Jim's mouth and promptly screw up what should've been a fantastic opportunity. Like usual, his normal bravado managed to make a bad situation worse. But Spock, being Vulcan and therefore much easier to talk to than some humans, had stood by and let his captain talk his mouth off before then saying that, despite what many of the crewmembers were saying, the possibility of a relationship with Jim was not something he was completely and utterly opposed to.

It had escalated from there, and they'd still been a bit closer than was standard in their professional connection when the _Enterprise _had finally beamed them up and then proceeded to make fun of them. The whole _Enterprise. _It might've even been funny if the two officers in question weren't still half-naked and covered with whip lashes. Jim was never going to live it down.

The actual relationship, however, had made up for all of that.

Spock was the sort of caring, attentive boyfriend (Jim still couldn't get over the word) who still managed not to suffocate you when he _was _being thoughtful. They balanced each other out, which was good – Jim, the boisterous, exaggerated, exuberant one, and Spock, the quiet, contained, calm one – and it was nice to have someone to hug passionately every time they escaped a near-death experience (those were piling up the further they travelled into space). It was nice to have someone you cared about so deeply that they were constantly on your mind. And it was nice to have someone that you had appreciated for weeks, months, even, and constantly puzzled over, to give you the answers you wanted.

It was nice to be able to finally call Spock _his_, after all those nights of wishing he could and not being able to.

Maybe it wasn't a particularly good thing that Jim sometimes timed the minutes until he was officially allowed off the bridge, but in the deepness of space, surrounded by black, in only a small container by the universe's standards, it was one of the only things he had.

And he was determined to keep it.

THE END

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**Aah, this went completely nowhere. *headdesk* Anyway, I don't own Star Trek or the characters I just used. Please leave a review, I'd really appreciate it.**


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